Aithreachas
by shan14
Summary: A series of very loosely related drabbles
1. Aithreachas

Aithreachas

She stared at his dark brown locks, falling precariously a top his head just waiting for a gust of salted sea wind to blow them into his eyes. How often she'd wondered why he didn't get his hair cut shorter so he wouldn't have the problem of being blinded momentarily by his unruly strands. His hair was by no means long, though it broke the boundaries of a middle aged sailor's normal hair length and this in itself could captivate her for countless minutes when she should have been listening.

She stared at his eyes, deep pools of chocolate brown that sparkled in the sunlight dancing across the rippled water below. He'd always been a bright eyed boy she pondered, imagining his poor mother wouldn't have been able to say no to those beautiful eyes. Neither had she once upon a time, but those days were lost in the chapters of her past that had been closed. She often found her self longing to stare into them once more, while he was talking or standing near by, but so far she hadn't moved close enough to see the depths of his soul without blushing furiously.

She stared at his mouth; rough, red lips parting slightly to taste the salt of the air around them. Curling into a soft smile ever so often when something amused him or a sight pleased him. The little things that over time were becoming more apparent as they grew closer once more, a shiver as he placed his hand on her back or a blink as déjà vu set in. Memories of the past that left neither alone and played at his lips like music.

She didn't dare let her mind wonder towards their texture, the feel of them brushed up against her own as time stood still for the pair. Thoughts like that would never eventuate to anything more than fantasy, and so she continued staring, stealing a glimpse of her past with a man that she would have to move on from, eventually.

_And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call  
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all  
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you  
This is what I have to do  
_


	2. Sorry

Sorry 

"Mike" she whispered slowly, drawing the name out against his ear before pulling back, searching out his eyes while her hands got to work on his shirt. She smiled slowly up at him, tears long since forgotten as he continued to stare at her, meaningful gaze putting her slightly on edge.

"What?" she asked with a frustrated sigh, dropping her hands behind his back as he continued his observance; barely blinking, not moving and only watching her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered moments later, stepping in reverse until his back hit something solid, chilling him slightly as bare skin came in contact with the cool wall.

"This isn't about me, is it?" she asked slowly, barley hiding the tears that were finding their way to his polished floorboards. She met his eyes one last time and saw her answer, so clear in his pools of brown that she shuddered with the truth.

"Well I'm not her" she whispered shakily before tuning away.

"I'm sorry Ursula" he whispered to himself, watching the door slam close with force as a car roared to life, shattering the silence as he slid to the floor, head in his hands while a lonely breeze blew through the curtains.

"I'm sorry" he murmured to the shadows surrounding him.


	3. Senses

1. Sound

She walked quickly down the cool metal corridors of the Hammersley, slowing to a quiet halt outside his door as the soft sounds of his voice filled the room.

He was humming a tune; a slow melody that she couldn't put her finger on but knew was familiar.

Without thought she leant slowly against the wall, her mind lost in the past as she searched for the memory she knew was there.

Midnight by the water; a slow dance barefoot in the sand while crickets chirped their song came to mind as she gasped in realisation.

Feet shuffled behind the door as she broke free from the past, not once looking back as she ran down the corridor.

He had barely seen the wisps of her ponytail before she had disappeared.

2. Smell

Soft footsteps from behind caused her to turn her head ever so slightly. He was standing behind her, his body mere inches from her own as a soft breeze tingled against her blushed cheeks. One eye was trained on the horizon, the other on the man she could feel breathing against her neck, so that she noticed when he shut his eyes tightly and smiled. A silly, happy, almost grin that she hadn't seen in years.

"You smell like sea salt" he whispered finally, standing so close that she was sure they were breaking the rules by just breathing.

"Really" she whispered but he'd already left, lost in his world once more.

3. Touch

"Have you ever watched someone you love die?" she asked suddenly, surprising him so that he turned his entire self towards her in the sand. He'd found her there after returning from the coroners office, watching the lifeless body of the man who had hurt her being rolled away.

"No" he answered finally, shaking his head slowly "Not someone I love, why?"

"No reason" she responded quietly, lowering her gaze to her lap so that he wouldn't notice the tears rolling down her cheek.

She felt a rough hand slowly cover her own, the gentle touch warming her aching heart so that she found the strength to smile; a weak, watery smile but one none the less.

And suddenly she knew that it would get better.

4. Taste

The heavy liquid burnt a path down her throat as she drowned the last of it, grateful it was done before wondering when the next one would come around. She barely noticed the change as he stood next to her; rather she has felt his presence moments earlier as he appeared on the balcony.

"Any good?" he asked casually, leaning side ways against the wood to face her.

She laughed; a dry, sad laugh of tired amusement that stung at his heart before warming again as she smiled.

"Maybe, Chefo suggested it" she answered, facing him in turn and the smile he was wearing.

He stared at her a moment, noticing the weariness that he felt written across her gorgeous features so that she looked older than she was.

"I know something that tastes better" he whispered finally, leaning across to kiss her softly.

5. Sight

He stared at her hair, blonde locks falling in slow waves down her face, coming to rest a top the pillow she had stolen procession of throughout the night.

He stared at her eyes, the pale eyelids fluttering with dreams, which hid the vibrant green off the doors to her soul.

He stared at her nose, with its two small dimples on either side, dappled with sun kisses and freckles.

He stared at her lips, curled slowly in a dazed smile of bliss caused by a dream he wished to be apart of.

He leaned across slowly, pulling the cotton sheet they shared tight as he kissed her lips, so softly he wondered if she would wake.

He watched as she rose slowly, expressionless at first before greeting the new day with a smile and a whisper

"Good morning"


	4. Change

"You lied" murmured Kate, leaning against the metal railing of the captain's cabin entrance.

"Beg pardon?" he asked, swivelling away from his lap top to face her.

"Last night you told Miss Durand that you couldn't dance" she continued, eyeing him calmly.

"I can't" pointed out Mike, returning to face his desk. Kate's brow crinkled in confusion as she leaned further into the room.

"That's not what I remember" she countered, wondering if the switch from professional to personal would rattle the man before her.

"Well things change" he replied coldly, dismissing his unwelcome companion with a wave of his hand.

Kate slid from the room breathlessly, blinking away a stray tear before deliberately brushing past the closed curtain dividing her from the man she used to know.

Indeed, how things had changed.


	5. Initials

Kate hurried quickly down the tight corridors of the Hammersley, trying to find her way towards the galley for a bite to eat. She huffed quietly to herself as she hit yet another wrong turn, ending up instead in Spider's bunk. How she had reached that part of the ship was beyond her, her mind instead wandering over the troubling events of the past day.

She had tried desperately to keep her mind on the job, ignoring the presence of a certain captain as much as possible whilst still completing her duties as Second in Command.

How she wished to be back on her 'big ships' where she was free to stick to herself.

Her eyes glazed over the room before she stepped out of it, coming to a sudden halt as she noticed a roughly carved set of initials in the ageing wood of the bunk.

She couldn't help but laugh at the sight, running a tired hand across her face.

_M.F_

The source of all her problems contained in two small letters.


	6. Rolling Right Along

There was an old adage, thought up some 40 years ago, that went along the lines 'You can't always get what you want'

Mike Flynn smirked comically, tugged at the waist of his blonde headed companion and buried himself between the sheets and her warm body.

Sure you could.


End file.
